


work out the knots

by bilexualclarke



Series: tumblr drabbles [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Massage, bellamy is here to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 07:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilexualclarke/pseuds/bilexualclarke
Summary: Clarke struggles to make a new list. Bellamy helps her de-stress.





	work out the knots

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr, feb. 18, 2017.

It happens again, two days later, when they lose three people to black rain. Three people who, coincidentally, all had spots on Clarke’s list. 

“So, who is lucky enough to make the cut now, God?” Jasper asks her that night. She doesn’t answer him, instead storming off to her quarters and ripping the list to shreds.

Bellamy finds her standing in the tattered pieces, not crying but not exactly keeping it together either. He places both hands on her shoulders this time.

“We’ll figure something out,” he says slowly. 

“I am so  _tired_ of figuring things out.”

Bellamy hums in agreement. His thumbs dig into her back and she groans.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, quickly retreating. 

“No!” Clarke turns and grabs his hand. “It, uh, it felt nice.” Then she flushes, struck by the absurdity of it all. “Sorry, never mind.”

“I can, um,” Bellamy clears his throat, nodding towards the couch and keeping his eyes firmly trained on the floor. “If you want me to work out the knots, or whatever.”

 _Did he just offer to give me a massage?_ Clarke wonders. 

 _I just fucking offered to give her a massage,_  Bellamy groans internally. Granted, it sounds like a dream come true, having his hands on her body and making her feel good, but there are about a thousand better ways he could have phrased it at a thousand better times.

“That would be great,” Clarke says, surprising him. She sits down on the edge of the couch and turns, resting her forearms on the arm of the couch and leaving her back exposed to him. Bellamy takes a deep breath before settling behind her, placing his hands awkwardly on her shoulders again.

“So, um, let me know if I hurt you or anything,” he mumbles, lightly starting to massage the base of her neck.

Clarke’s head falls forward with a sigh. “Will do,” she breathes. 

It’s manageable at first. She’s really fucking tense, so his attention is completely innocent, focusing on working out the knots around her upper back. Clarke lets out little sighs and moans occasionally, and yeah, he’s sure as hell going to jerk off as soon as he’s alone later, but it’s nothing too distracting.

But then he goes lower. And her moans get louder. 

He stops after a particularly loud one, his cock now painfully hard in his pants and her hands gripping the arm of the couch so tightly her knuckles are white. 

“Please don’t stop,” she pants. 

He digs his thumbs harder into her lower back. Clarke cries out, falling forward over the arm of the couch. Her shirt rides up, and he can’t help but lightly scratch the exposed skin of her back. 

Clarke turns suddenly, sitting up and throwing her legs over his so she is straddling him, cupping his face in her hands. He stares up at her, desperate to speak but not trusting himself to. He doesn’t know who breaks first, but then they’re kissing, rough and hot but with just enough tenderness that he knows that this is more than just a heat of the moment release for her, too. 

She pulls back first, her pupils blown wide and her face flushed. Bellamy grips her waist tightly, grinding up against her heat. 

“Do you want me to get you off?” he says lowly, mouthing at the hollow of her throat. 

She nods. Clarke unbuttons her pants and grabs his hand, slipping it inside. Her panties are damp and when he pushes them aside the wetness gathered along her slit nearly makes him lose it right there.

“I’ll take care of you.” He flips them over so her back is up against the arm of the couch and he is kneeling over her. She shimmies her pants and underwear halfway down her thighs. “I’ll give you what you need, babe.”

Clarke cries out when she feels two calloused fingers roughly circle her clit. She grabs his arm, her nails biting at his skin. “Fingers, Bell. I need your fingers.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” He does as she asks, of course, sliding one digit into her cunt slowly, and then a second.

The hot stretch of it all is perfect, and when he curls his two fingers and grazes that sensitive spot inside of her, she lets out a deep, guttural moan.

“Fuck, just like that.” Clarke tilts her head up, searching. Bellamy leans down and slants his mouth over hers. He bites her lower lip and she licks into his mouth, and yeah, that’s how it is with them, always a give and take. 

“I want more,” Clarke whines after a bit. One hand leaves his arm and cups the impressive bulge in his pants. His dick twitches in response to her touch. “I want your cock, Bellamy.”

“Is that right?” he growls. “You want me to fuck you? Have you thought about that, Clarke?”

“All the time.” 

 _Christ._  Bellamy finger fucks her harder, desperate to send her over the edge before her words had an embarrassing effect on him. 

“Next time,” he promises, mouthing at the skin of her throat, feeling her pulse jump. “Next time I’ll give you my cock.”

His thumb trips over her clit, and she arches back against him, her nails digging into his arm. The walls of her cunt start to quiver around his fingers.

“Come for me,” he commands, pulling back so he can watch her face and she falls apart. “Look at me and come now.”

Her eyes snap open. He stares at her in awe as she comes, her lips forming a tortured ‘O’ and her brows furrowing as she rides out the pleasure. A fresh gush of wetness coats his fingers and she lets out a high-pitched cry before her body relaxes and she collapses in on herself, curling into the couch. Bellamy continues to fuck her slowly, helping her ride out the aftershocks.

“So good,” she mumbles, her legs twitching a bit as her breathing levels out. “That was so good, Bell.”

He slips his fingers out of her cunt and licks them clean. Her taste is tangy, earthy, and he is suddenly desperate to taste it straight from the source. From the look on Clarke’s face as she watches him, she feels the same.

“I want to taste you, too,” she says, her voice a bit raspy from her screams, “but I don’t want to wait until next time.”

Bellamy smirks, tilting her chin up so he can press a hot, quick kiss to her lips. “Who am I to deny the princess, huh?”

Clarke smiles brightly, her hands immediately getting to work on stripping him of his pants. He has a feeling that he probably won’t last long, but he isn’t too worried. 

He’ll just give her another  _massage_  tomorrow.


End file.
